Banished
by DaisyG80
Summary: Takes place at the start of season four and examines Carol's thoughts and motivations before and after her banishment.
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N:_** So I have caught up on season four – Thank You Netflix! There were so many places I wanted to stop watching and start writing but couldn't stop myself from gorging on the entire season in less than a week. I had a lot of mixed feelings about this season but after seeing the previews for Sunday's show…..hot damn! I am excited and it looks like we will get some Caryl! Anyway, that's enough from me. I don't know how long this story will be or how often I will get to update – I'm posting as I write so this is as far as I've gotten lol. Hope you like it and as always – Happy Reading!

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Banished**

It had been a test. That's all. Rick had wanted to test her before he "officially" decided what to do with her. Carol shook her head in sorrow. She had known what he was doing, of course. Rick was about as subtle as a flying brick. She supposed she could have tempered her responses; told him what he wanted to hear but she really didn't see the point. Carol could tell by looking at him that he had already made up his mind. She hadn't been entirely sure what he would do but he was obviously trying to make himself believe he was making the right decision.

Carol nearly laughed aloud at the irony. They were so alike it was ludicrous. She hadn't wanted to kill Karen and David. But she truly believed she was going to prevent more people from dying so she had done something she had never thought she was capable of. She killed two people, two good people that were a part of their community. To save others she had done something terribly wrong, believing she was making the right decision.

Her desperate attempt to stem the flow of illness was for nothing. Nearly everyone from Woodbury was sick and now Glen was too. She hadn't stopped anything, had only become a murderer. Rick thought she was remorseless; a cold-blooded killer and she had done nothing to dispel that assumption. She could have cried – lord knew, she wanted to often enough. She could have begged to go back with him, begged for forgiveness. Maybe she had wanted to be punished but when he told her he couldn't trust her around Carl and Judith she felt her gorge rise.

Carol had killed to try and save them but Rick couldn't – or wouldn't – see that. So here she was driving slowly down a road, passing abandoned cars occasionally. She had no destination in mind and probably shouldn't be wasting gas until she knew where she was going but Carol couldn't summon the will to care just then. So she drove and let her mind wander back to the day after the slaughter.

…

Patrick had gotten sick and less than twenty-four hours later he had died, turned, and killed so many others. When they learned Karen and David were sick too – and the only two showing symptoms – all she could think about was protecting the rest of the survivors.

She had stood there in the hallway after the council meeting as Sasha led Tyreese and Karen away, lost in thought. She had barely registered Daryl lingering until he spoke.

"Hey. You ok?"

"Just worried about Lizzie and Mika. They were around Patrick."

"We all were." She met his gaze, remembering Patrick had wanted to shake his hand the morning before. He had called Daryl "Mr. Dixon" and had been positively bursting with pride at getting to talk with his hero. In so many ways Patrick had still been a child. Young at heart. She forced her thoughts away and looked closer at Daryl.

When Rick had decided to play farmer, the bulk of responsibility had fallen to Daryl. He led the runs and was continuously taking people in. He also hunted daily to make sure they had enough meat for everyone. Then of course he never missed his turn to take watch. She longed to reach out and smooth the tension from his forehead.

"What about you? Are you ok?" Carol knew he had taken it hard when Zach had been killed on the run the day before. Daryl had become such a large part of everyone's lives and knew most everyone at the prison now. Losing the people they had through the night had to be weighing heavily on him. He took every loss as a personal failure.

"Yeah," the way he bit his lip and ducked his head told her he wasn't alright at all. "Gotta be." He nodded at her and turned to leave. He had to start digging graves. Carol watched him walk away with pain in her heart. Daryl would do what needed to be done. He would be strong and help others through this crisis as he had so many times before but he wouldn't let himself take comfort from her or anyone else. And she wouldn't – couldn't – overstep the boundaries he had set around himself.

She had seen Beth hug him after he told her about Zach and felt a rush of jealousy as she stood watching them from the shadows. Beth, young as she was, had no concept of personal boundaries. She had wanted to hug Daryl so she did, with no thought of being rejected. No emotional baggage collected over a lifetime to make her hesitant.

Carol wished it could be that simple for her. For all of their flirting, Carol was certain he didn't view her in a romantic sense and a simple hug would mean far more to her than it would to him. That painful knowledge allowed her to keep her distance. Carol had endured so much in her life, both before and after the turn, but she couldn't bear the thought of being rejected by Daryl.

She couldn't comfort him the way Beth could. She couldn't ease the strain he was under from taking care of so many people. But maybe she could keep anyone else from dying from that illness. Carol knew what she would have to do to make that happen and she felt sick just thinking about it. So many had died the night before and with Karen and David sick there was a risk of the flu spreading and killing even more. The council wanted to keep the sick quarantined but it would still spread, she had seen many epidemics come and go. More would die. The children and the elderly were the most vulnerable. Judith. Carl. Lizzie and Mika. Luke. So many children. She had to do something. She had to try.

…

Coming back to the present, Carol stopped the car and looked around her. She had been so lost in thought she had been heading back toward the prison without realizing it. She turned off the engine and sat for a moment. That's when she heard it. An engine – a loud one. Carol scrambled to grab her bag and some supplies in case she had to abandon the car completely, and jumped out of the station wagon. She looked around and ran for a group of trees and bushes clumped together about twenty yards from the road.

When she was safely hidden behind the thick foliage, she cleared a small area so she could see the road. And then she waited.

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: First off let me just warn everyone that my timeline is different that it was on the show. Two days are compressed into one. Daryl and company get back to the prison earlier. This was a mistake when I wrote the first chapter and instead of trying to change everything I'm just going with it lol. Second, thanks for being patient. I try not to have more than one story going at a time and right now I have three works in progress so updates are coming slow. Hope you like it!

Chapter 2

Carol sat crouched in the bushes and listened to the engine get louder but she still couldn't see anything. Finally after a few more minutes of tense waiting she saw an old rusted GMC truck barreling down the road toward her. Just as it blew past her she saw a man with an eye patch behind the wheel. And he was driving toward the prison. Once the truck was out of site she almost jumped up and ran for the station wagon.

She stopped when she realized he had been alone in the truck. Maybe the others were following him. As much as she wanted to catch up to him, to warn the others, she made herself stay there. She wouldn't do anyone any good if she was caught or killed before she could sound the alarm. She waited what felt like an hour but was probably only fifteen or twenty minutes before running for the car. Throwing her stuff into the passenger seat, she got in and had the car started and moving before she had finished getting the door closed.

Carol followed the road for about ten miles and despite her desire to catch up to the Governor as quickly as possible, her instincts told her to keep a moderate pace. She was glad that she had listened to her instincts when she noticed fresh tire marks in the mud along the side of the road. At first glance, he had seemed to pick a random place to go off road but as she slowed and looked closer she realized there was an overgrown dirt road leading from the main highway to the prison at an angle. Carol drove another two miles ahead and pulled off of the highway onto another dirt road pointed in the opposite direction of the way the Governor had gone.

She sat parked there for a few moments, listening to the stillness in the woods around her. Should she go directly to the prison and warn them? Would Rick even let her in the gate to explain her discovery? With no idea where he might be, going to the prison might just tip the Governor off that he had been seen. This was the closest they had gotten to finding him and she didn't want him to take off again while she was trying to convince Rick to listen to her, especially when she didn't have much information to offer in the first place.

Carol sighed and rested her head on the steering wheel. No. She would go on foot, follow the tracks of the truck and find out where the Governor was. With any luck she might be able to take him out on her own. Having decided on a plan of action, Carol quickly grabbed her bad shoving a couple of water bottles, some energy bars, and extra ammunition. She checked her rifle, making sure it was loaded and ready. Next she checked the revolved she kept tucked into her boot. She had several knives she kept on her person, all hidden except for the one on her belt. Satisfied that she was as prepared as she could be, she tucked the car keys into her pocked, closed up the station wagon and set out to find the Governor.

She had parked the car about a mile and a half away from the highway and she estimated that it took her about fifteen minutes to walk back. As she got closer to the intersection she veered off into the cover of the trees and approached the highway carefully. She waited, crouched, listening for vehicles or people nearby. Hearing nothing she quickly crossed the two lane road and disappeared into the trees on the other side.

The road the Governor had turned onto had appeared to still head in the direction of the prison but at an angle so Carol figured she could continue to walk straight and she would be able to find the road. She had been walking for at least an hour before she abruptly found the road again. She quickly stepped back into the cover of the trees and began moving alongside the badly overgrown path. Carol couldn't help but pick up her pace now that she had a good idea of where the Governor had gone.

She walked for another two or three miles before she began to hear the faint sounds of people talking. Carol stopped to listen. She was still hidden in the trees so no one could see her but that also meant that she couldn't see anyone either. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the voices and drowning out all the other noises in the woods around her. Hershel. Michonne. Despite the circumstances, Carol couldn't help but grin. She continued to creep forward, careful to not make any noise.

The trees began to thin near the road and Carol knelt when she saw the truck from earlier parked off to the side. She scanned the trees around her, looking for any sign of the man in the eye patch but saw no one. Suddenly there was a change in the air around her and Carol froze. She wasn't sure what had changed at first but then realized everything had gone still. Hershel and Michonne had stopped talking. Shit. Carol started to move forward again, worried that she was too late. Before she could walk more than a few steps she had to stop and drop to the ground. She could hear footsteps coming towards her. Double shit. Would he see her? Where was Hershel and Michonne?

Carol risked being seen to lift her head a little, peeking over the tall grass. She saw a flash of dark clothes about twenty feet away from her. He was getting closer. She dropped back down and held her breath. She closed her eyes, wondering if she was going to die here just outside the prison. Would anyone find her body? Would anyone even care if they did? She felt her throat close and fought tears of self-pity. This was not the time to feel sorry for herself. If she was going to die here it had better be worth it.

She lifted her head again and caught sight of Hershel and Michonne walking slowly to the Governor's truck. He was walking behind them, a revolver pointed at their backs in one hand and Michonne's katana in the other. Dammit. She didn't have a clear shot at him and if she missed he might kill them both. What the hell was she going to do?

Carol raised her head again and watched as Philip Blake forced the two into the bed of the truck and she saw her opportunity. He ordered Hershel to bind Michonne at her ankles and wrists. While Philip was distracted with binding Hershel, Carol got her rifle ready to take him out when he stood back up. She lay there in the tall grass and got him in her crosshairs. He straightened and turned towards her and she froze when he seemed to look directly at her. Her finger tightened on the trigger, she wanted to wait until he had climbed down from the truck. After a second of scanning the trees, Philip jumped down from the truck and Carol adjusted her weapon, taking aim. Just as he was opening the driver's side door she aimed directly for his head and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. Frantically, she kept trying to pull the trigger but there was only a click. Cursing, she checked the gun again; safety was off. It had been a misfire. She heard the engine of the truck fire up. Damn it! She ejected the bad casing and loaded another into the chamber. Quickly, she got to her knees and took aim at the window on the driver's side but the truck was already pulling away, tires spinning in the gravel.

Carol could have cried at the missed opportunity to kill the Governor, but even more devastating was knowing that he had Michonne and Hershel and she hadn't been able to stop him.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Apparently when I posted Chapter 2, I posted the unedited version – ooops. The chapter is edited and re-posted and hopefully much better!

Chapter 3

Carol scrambled to her feet and watched the truck speed off, going around a curve and disappearing from sight. She paused there for a moment to review her options. She could go to the prison and hope they would listen to her but she would first have to get the car – there were too many walkers outside of the gates to make it there on foot. Or she could get the car and try to catch up with the truck to find out where the hell Blake was taking her friends. Either way she was going to need the car so she started running as quickly and silently as possible in the direction she had come from. She could decide what she would do on the way.

Carol was grateful for the rush of adrenaline that allowed her to run most of the way back to the station wagon but it still took longer that she would have liked. Miraculously, she only came across four separate walkers and was able to take them out easily. By the time she reached the station wagon again she was panting hard and sweating profusely. She wrenched open the driver's side door and collapsed onto the seat. Trying to catch her breath, she rifled through her pack for one of the waters she had taken with her. Carol unscrewed the cap and managed to drain the entire bottle in one drink.

With her breathing a little more under control, Carol started the car and made a u-turn to get back to the highway. During her mad run back to the car she had decided to try to find the Governor before going back for Rick and the others. She couldn't risk the delay that going to the prison would inevitably cause. When she was back on the paved highway she accelerated quickly. Even though Blake had a nearly two hour head start she thought she would be able to catch up to them as long – as long as he continued on the highway. Carol figured that Blake must have a camp set up relatively close to the prison. There was no way he would risk taking two members of their group without help if he had a large distance to cover.

Carol racked her memory, trying to map out the area in her head. Where would be the safest, most logical place to set a camp in that area? Thinking back, she recalled Daryl telling her about an area not too far away from the prison where the creek outside the fences flowed into a larger river. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest at the thought of Daryl but she pushed him from her mind. She had to focus on finding her friends first. There would be time to worry about Daryl later. He had told her there was a secluded camping site there and it was pretty well protected. It was more than likely where Blake and his followers were holed up. Carol was certain that he must have people with him or he wouldn't have been so bold in his approach.

She started watching for road signs signaling camping areas. Carol was driving fast around a curve and there it was. A sign for the campground. She had driving so fast that she nearly missed it. She drove a little distance further until she came to a stretch of road wide enough to turn around and drove slowly back toward the turn off. She had yet another moment of indecision – should she drive down the road or go on foot? If she went in the car she lost the advantage of surprise but she also lost more precious time. She had no idea how far away from the turn the camp grounds were.

Carol tried to estimate how long it had been since she had watched the pickup drive away outside the prison gates. It had to have been going on two and half hours now. It had taken her almost two, even running, to get back to the station wagon. Carol threw the car in park and turned off the engine. It would be safer to go on foot. She exchanged her empty water bottle for a full one and got out of the car. She hadn't walked ten feet when she heard the unmistakable sounds of cars and another, louder, vehicle. Shit.

Carol looked around frantically and spotted some thick brush on the far side of the road and ran for it. She was barely behind the bushes before the first of the vehicles came into view. In the lead was an RV and it turned onto the highway, headed back toward the prison. She held her breath, wondering if anyone would notice her car among the other abandoned vehicles already on the road. The driver glanced at the station wagon but didn't slow. Trailing the RV were a handful of cars and trucks. Bringing up the rear…dear God, it was a tank. Carol felt overcome with dread.

They had no defense against artillery of that size. As soon as the vehicles were out of sight, Carol came out of hiding and got back in the car. She rested her head on the steering wheel for a moment, wishing she had decided to go back to the prison instead of following Blake. At least they would have known he was coming but now they would be caught by surprise and how many people would die because of her bad decision?

Carol closed her eyes against the tears threatening to fall. What had she done? Pulling herself together, Carol took a deep breath, steadying herself. She had to do something. Follow them back. They would probably approach the prison from the same direction that Blake had gone earlier. They would want to surprise Rick and the others and they couldn't very well do that by rolling up to the front gate. If she could get to the prison while they were setting up in the woods she could still warn them.

Feeling galvanized with a new plan, Carol shoved the key into the ignition and turned it. The engine sputtered for a second and then died. Son of a bitch! This couldn't be happening. The tried again and again, the engine coughed before falling silent. The check engine light was on. The gas tank was still half full. Quickly, she popped the hood and climbed out of the car. She knew little to nothing about cars. She could check the oil and change out a battery. That was the extent of her knowledge.

As far as she could tell the oil and the battery were both fine. She slammed her hand down on the side of the car. Why the hell wasn't it starting? She wanted to scream in frustration. She slammed the hood back down and climbed back into the car. She would try it one more time and then start checking the other cars on the road. Holding her breath, she turned the key in the ignition. Nothing. This time there was not even the weak cough the engine had produced earlier. It was just dead.

Dammit. She grabbed her things and jogged the car about fifty yards up the road. Carol wrenched open the door and looked in the ignition, on the visor, in the ashtray, everywhere she could think of. .No keys. Shit. Everything that could go wrong, was going wrong but she was determined not to give up. There were two others cars in sight that she could check and if they didn't work out, she had passed others earlier. She would work her way toward the prison, trying cars as she went until she found one that was drivable or she made it back to the prison. Whichever came first. She would not give up.

TBC…


End file.
